


On My Love You Can Depend

by TrekBec82



Series: Ineffable Husbands [5]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Fluff and Smut, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Light Angst, M/M, Post-Canon, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 11:55:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20425562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrekBec82/pseuds/TrekBec82
Summary: The Ineffable Husbands plan their wedding, and finally tie the knot.





	On My Love You Can Depend

**Author's Note:**

> Holy heck. I've written 31,200 words in 2.5 weeks and I'm not done yet - there are definitely two more parts yet to come for these guys, and then maybe something else after that.
> 
> The title comes from the lyrics of [Love Is All Around](https://youtu.be/h3gEkwhdXUE), by Wet Wet Wet.
> 
> If you'd like to follow me on Tumblr - where I share loads of Good Omens posts and a sprinkling of other things - you can do so at [TrekBec82](http://trekbec82.tumblr.com/).
> 
> You can find the complete playlist on [YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLXBALksKVRE0BGLKGZahSkizFxlqLK7nk) or [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7xeNsrbnKFyeJ8hEYUsgeL?si=e9F_LF_QRlqRTp44lfYFLg).

_"Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport. General opinion’s starting to make out that we live in a world of hatred and greed, but I don’t see that. It seems to me that love is everywhere. Often it’s not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it’s always there – fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends. When the planes hit the Twin Towers, as far as I know, none of the phone calls from the people on board were messages of hate or revenge – they were all messages of love. If you look for it, I’ve got a sneaky feeling you’ll find that love actually is all around."_

Aziraphale and Crowley had been on a romantic comedy marathon for the last 35 hours, with no signs of stopping - at least, not for any longer than it took to get more wine from the cellar, or pop more corn in the little machine Adam and his parents had given them as an engagement present. They had just started on Love Actually - a long-time favourite of Aziraphale's, due to the different varieties of love it depicted. Aziraphale loved love, and Crowley loved picking movies apart - mocking ridiculous tropes, and pointing out all the implausibilities inherent to the genre. 

"Did you know Angel, in cinematic terms, we're what they'd call a slow burn?" Crowley asked, starting yet another comparison of reality and fiction.  
"A slow burn?" Aziraphale asked, sounding puzzled.  
"Yup. The slowest of slow burns - 6000 years must be a record, surely!"  
"How are we a slow burn, Crowley dear?"  
"Hereditary enemies to acquaintances, acquaintances to friends, friends to best friends, and FINALLY best friends to lovers. Very slowly adding fuel to the fire, and very gradually fanning the flames…until here we are, planning our wedding."  
"Has it been worth the wait, my love?"  
"Worth every second - I'd have waited forever if I had to. I'm glad I didn't have to, though."  
Aziraphale smiled, and kissed Crowley softly on the lips, cradling his face in his hands.  
"I love you." Aziraphale said.  
"I love you too, Angel." Crowley replied. 

When they reached the scene where the new Prime Minister meets his staff, they clutched each other and simultaneously exclaimed "SISTER MARY LOQUACIOUS!!"  
"You never told me she was in this, Angel!" Crowley accused.  
"I never recognised her before dear. I didn't meet her until the week before the apocalypse, after all."  
"Oh, of course. Though I suppose I can't talk - people mistake me for an actor all the time, too."  
"Do they really?"  
"Yeah, David Trident, or Tent, or something like that. He's played a bunch of slutty goths - has a bit of a reputation for that - and one of the doctors on Doctor Who. People are forever telling me I'm their favourite Doctor, and asking me to sign stuff."  
"What do you do when that happens?" Aziraphale asked.  
"Tell them ‘I’m very sorry but you've got the wrong person’, and keep walking."  
"You never play along?"  
"Nah. I figure the poor bastard gets hounded enough without me screwing with his reputation."  
"How very considerate of you, my dear."  
"I met him once, in 2011. Outside the theatre after he'd done Much Ado About Nothing. Seemed like a nice bloke. The redhead that played Beatrice was pretty shy, which surprised me, but they were both kind to their fans. I may have been a demon at the time, but I wasn't going to mess things up for him. If he'd been enough of a bastard, all bets would have been off though."

Aziraphale smiled and said, "You always were a softy."  
"Nah, not soft. Just preferred widespread inconvenience to individual attacks, unless people really deserved them."  
"Why do you think that is, Crowley dear?"  
"Probably something to do with why I fell, I guess. My first temptation was directly related to it, after all. Asking too many questions, never being satisfied with the answers - that's pretty inconvenient. I never developed a taste for the sorts of things Hastur and Ligur were into, just wasn't my style. I'd rather give 1000 people a lousy afternoon than one person a lousy year. Just seemed fairer to spread it around, if I had to do it at all."  
"Demons aren't supposed to be worried about fairness though." Aziraphale posited.  
"Angels aren't supposed to question everything, and I did that, too. Not sure why anyone thought I'd be any better at being a demon than I was at being an angel - but at least God noticed in the end, I guess."  
"Yes. She did. And now we get to spend eternity together. Thank you for being so thoroughly inept, my darling."  
"Right back at you, Angel."  
They grinned at each other, and kissed again. 

Three movies later they were watching Groundhog Day, when Crowley decided to delve into the time loop trope. “Angel, have you ever wondered what would happen if either of us were stuck in a time loop?”  
“I can’t say I have, no. Which of us do you think is more likely to be affected?” Aziraphale responded.  
“Well, given that I’ve paused time myself in the past, I don’t know. Maybe that makes me more likely? Maybe that makes me immune? Do you think it could affect us though, being angels?”  
“Well, you stopping time affected Satan, Beelzebub, and Gabriel, so it seems reasonable to assume it could.”  
“That’s a fair point. OK, let’s assume for the sake of hypotheticals that you get stuck in a time loop. What do you do?”  
“Wait for you to rescue me, probably.” Aziraphale grinned.  
“Let’s also assume - for the sake of this discussion - that I can’t rescue you - that YOU have to rescue yourself somehow. What then?”  
“Then I suppose I have to learn whatever it is that I’m stuck in the time loop to learn, and once I have, then time goes back to normal.”  
“What if it’s not something you have to learn, but something you have to do?”  
“Then I suppose I have to do it.”  
“What if it’s letting me go?” Crowley asked.  
“Then I’m stuck in the time loop forever, because that will never happen.” 

Tears streaked both their cheeks as they held each other close. Crowley was thinking of the moment when he knelt in the burning bookshop, believing Aziraphale was gone. Aziraphale was thinking of standing in Heaven, trying to figure out how to get back to Crowley - for that was the moment he’d known beyond any and all doubt that he would choose Crowley over everything and everyone else, no matter the consequences. He had risked everything - including Falling - to get back to his love. Instead of Falling, he had LEAPT - heart first, hoping and praying that he would find Crowley - and beyond all hope, beyond all prayers, he had succeeded. Then they’d helped Adam avert the apocalypse, and the rest would eventually become history. Giving up Crowley didn’t bear thinking about. Just as giving up Aziraphale didn’t bear thinking about, for Crowley - he couldn’t do it - he was certain it would kill him.

Shuddering with the strength of their feelings and gasping for breath, they kissed again and again, as though trying to convince themselves that the other was both real and present.  
“I love you, _I love you_, **I love you**, **_I love you_**, Iloveyou, _Iloveyou_, **Iloveyou**Iloveyou_Iloveyou_**_Iloveyou_**…” became the litany between them until the words lost all meaning, flowing out in a torrent of fear and loss and love and hope. Their hands couldn’t stay still - Crowley running his fingers through Aziraphale’s short curls, grabbing at his lapels, holding his waist - Aziraphale twining his hands in Crowley’s shoulder-length waves, clutching his shirtfront, gripping his hips. As the grasping became more desperate they disrobed, clothes falling to the floor in a trail to the bedroom, leaving Phil Connors to figure out his time loop without their observation.

Aziraphale led Crowley to the bed, then lay next to him, slowing the frantic pace with deep breaths interspersed between gentle kisses. He ran his hands over the slender frame of his fiancé, before kissing along his jawline, down his neck, to his chest. Taking one tender nipple between his teeth and lips he gently sucked, breathing out as he did so, then flicked his tongue over it swiftly as he inhaled. Crowley bucked at the cooling sensation this created, and moaned with pleasure. Aziraphale repeated the process on the other side with the same result, and Crowley clutched at Aziraphale’s curls once more, holding the angel’s head to his chest. Aziraphale could feel Crowley’s heart pounding under his cheek, and knew his own was pounding similarly.

Both were becoming firm with arousal, wanting the merger of their bodies with ever increasing intensity. After kissing his way up to Crowley’s ear, Aziraphale whispered hoarsely “What would you like to do?”  
“I want to feel you inside me, Angel. I want you inside me. Please.”  
Rather than using a miracle, Aziraphale slowly opened Crowley up - first with one lubricated finger, then two, then very gently a third. When the former demon was ready Aziraphale withdrew the digits and tenderly replaced them with his Effort, then took hold of Crowley's own. Crowley groaned again with the twin pleasures Aziraphale was giving him, writhing his slender hips in time with the angel's thrusts, taking him deeper, and angling so that each movement reached the place within that felt most incredible. Aziraphale gradually brought Crowley to his climax, reaching his own a moment later, each crying out the other's name as they came. 

Spent from movies and stress and sex, Aziraphale lay beside Crowley with his head on his shoulder, Crowley's arms about him, and chin resting against the top of Aziraphale's head.  
"I love you, Crowley," he said, lifting his face just enough to be heard clearly.  
"I love you too, Angel," Crowley said, then kissed Aziraphale's hair.  
Aziraphale didn't often sleep, but on this occasion he drifted off, as did Crowley shortly thereafter.  
They awoke the next morning spooning, with Crowley curled around Aziraphale, holding him close. Aziraphale had one arm angled slightly behind himself, hand resting on Crowley's hip - the other resting over the arm around his waist.  
Crowley nuzzled the back of Aziraphale's neck, then kissed it.  
Aziraphale turned his head to see his fiancé, and smiled. "Good morning, my dear."  
"Good morning to you, too." Crowley replied. 

Aziraphale rolled over to face Crowley properly, and said “I sometimes wonder if we might need to seek counselling, though I don’t know who would be qualified to assist us. Last night has brought it home to me once again that we probably have what humans call PTSD - post-traumatic stress disorder. Neither of us can bear to be without the other, and the thought of losing each other terrifies us far beyond what is probably healthy - at least if we use humans as a basis for comparison.”  
“I’m not sure they’re a great basis for it though, are you, Angel?” Crowley asked.  
“Well, the baseline may be less than ideal, but the basic principles would still apply, I think. It’s not healthy to be constantly paranoid, no matter the species.”  
“It’s not paranoia if they really are out to get you, though.”  
“That’s true, but ARE they out to get us? Now that neither of us actually belongs to them?”

“Do you honestly think Gabriel is going to get over the fact that you took a swan dive to get back to me, ARGUED WITH GOD HERSELF, and became a new rank of angel because of it? Or that Beelz will get over the fact that I was such a pathetic demon that God made me an angel again? Because I don’t,” Crowley argued.  
“I think God probably had conversations with them, actually - or informed them, at least. She didn’t just create a new rank of angel for our sakes - She gave us orders. I dived from Heaven, you climbed from Hell, and we met here to save Humanity. We’re angels, but we’re EARTHLY angels, Crowley. She wants us to succeed in our tasks, and we can’t do that if Gabriel and Beelzebub try to destroy us,” Aziraphale retorted.  
“You trust Her a lot more than I do, even after all She’s done.”  
“I do. She’s earned it. She may have ‘sentenced’ us to eternity on Earth, but she was also giving us exactly what we wanted, and I’m grateful.”  
Crowley took a deep breath to steady himself, and said, “That’s true. She did. And I’m grateful too. I get to marry the love of my life.” The hint of a smile touched the corners of his lips.  
“Yes, you do.” Aziraphale gave Crowley a brief peck on the lips then continued, “would you like to go and look at wedding things today, to get an idea of what we might like to have?”  
“Yes please Angel. I need to focus on the good things today.”

After breakfast (toasted brioche smeared with avocado and cream cheese, drizzled with vinaigrette, and several cups of English Breakfast tea for Aziraphale - black coffee for Crowley) they walked to a nearby stationery store to select the cardstock for invitations, place cards, and so forth. They eventually settled on a golden champagne colour with a pearlescent finish that cost a small fortune and was probably terrible for the environment, but felt justified in this decision as they would only be getting married once, it had been 6000 years in the making, and the limited number of guests they intended to invite would likely keep them as mementos of the day. 

Next on the list was cake - Aziraphale had assured Crowley that the cake needed to be one of their earliest priorities - not because he loved cake (though he does, as I'm sure you're all aware), but because the best wedding cakes take TIME. Crowley really didn't care what sort of cake they had as long it made Aziraphale happy on their special day, but seeing his childlike glee as he tasted option after option was a pleasant side effect of the selection process. Aziraphale concluded that a decadent mud cake was the winner, with individual miniature versions to be made for anyone with special dietary requirements. It was the sort of thing that never would have occurred to Crowley, but pleased him regardless. Aziraphale truly cared that others enjoy their day as much as he was intending to, and it made Crowley smile. 

Once cake was ticked off Aziraphale's neatly handwritten list, it was on to the main meal. With an evening wedding this meant dinner, but they'd yet to agree on the number of courses. Crowley had successfully talked Aziraphale down from 12 (12!!!!) to 5, and was trying to bring it down to 4 - combining cake and dessert - with the argument that fresh fruit alongside the rich mud cake was QUITE enough sugar for most people. Aziraphale reluctantly agreed to this concession when Crowley pointed out that roughly a quarter of their guest list was made up of children, and he'd rather not face the prospect of their parents forcing them to choose between dessert and wedding cake. With that settled it was a simple matter of deciding what to have for the other 3 courses. Or rather, it would have been a simple matter if either groom wasn't Aziraphale, who wanted EVERYTHING, as usual. 

Eventually it was decided they'd offer a few options for each course, preselected by guests as part of their RSVP. Crowley typically gave Aziraphale whatever he wanted, but had been determined to keep the reception as close to human-standard (or at least financially-very-comfortable-human-standard) as possible because several of the guests (the Them's parents) had no idea that there was anything out of the ordinary about either himself or Aziraphale, and wanted to keep it that way if he possibly could. Aziraphale meanwhile was enjoying Crowley providing input rather than his usual "whatever you'd like, Angel" - a novel sensation he wanted to cultivate into habit, if he could manage it. Crowley would often give a preference for wine to drink, and had opinions on music and movies, but largely deferred to Aziraphale on other matters (except for sex, where he was an enthusiastic contributor) - which was nice in its way, but Aziraphale was a firm believer in the human concept of "variety is the spice of life", so an increase in variety was overwhelmingly considered a good thing. 

Crowley had agreed to an outdoor wedding (with gazebo) on the condition that it was held in the evening - he wanted to dance under the stars with Aziraphale afterwards - and had liked the angel’s idea of three aisles. The playlist Aziraphale had been working on was a different matter, and had been the cause of more than one argument.  
“I’ll walk down the aisle to The Minstrel Boy if you want me to Angel, but I am NOT having Rihanna’s ‘Umbrella’ at the reception - I don’t care how much it reminds you of us, or that day on the Wall,” Crowley had decreed on one particularly memorable occasion.  
“But..”  
“No buts about it, the answer is no. And why on EARTH are there so many songs on this list referencing Heaven?!”  
“Because…”  
“No, I know your reasons - I’ve heard them before - it was a rhetorical question.” Crowley ticked them off on his fingers as he went down the list. “Dave Dobbyn - Slice of Heaven. Bruno Mars - Locked Out of Heaven. Belinda Carlisle - Heaven is a Place on Earth. Tavares - Heaven Must Be Missing an Angel. Are you TRYING to make the mundane humans cotton on to what we are, or have you lost your Godforsaken mind?”  
“I…”  
“No, don’t answer that either Aziraphale, I know, I know. You just love those songs about love. Can’t help yourself, I know. But SERIOUSLY!”

Other songs he’d accepted with much less of a fight. Love is All Around - the normal version by Wet Wet Wet, not the tortured Christmas rendition from Love Actually. The Pointer Sisters - Jump (for My Love), from the same soundtrack. Forever Now by Michael Bublé. Truly, Madly, Deeply by Savage Garden. Bright Side of the Road - Van Morrison. The Way You Look Tonight - Frank Sinatra. Dream a Little Dream of Me - Doris Day. Can’t Take My Eyes Off You - Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons. Iris - Goo Goo Dolls. Have I Told You Lately - Rod Stewart. And just because it was a bit fun, the Sister Act version of I Will Follow Him. He’d reluctantly agreed to The Bangles - Eternal Flame, and Natalie Cole - This Will Be (an Everlasting Love), primarily to take the sting out of rejecting all the Heavenly tracks. Crowley had insisted - thankfully without argument - that their first dance as a married couple would be to the same tune as their first dance ever, and their first dance as fiancés - Strauss’s Blue Danube Waltz.

Crowley in turn had made some song suggestions that raised Aziraphale’s eyebrows.  
“Why do you want Tina Turner - Nutbush City Limits, and The Village People - YMCA at our reception, dear?” he’d asked when he saw Crowley’s list of tunes.  
“I saw online that people like to dance to them. It could be fun if everybody gets into it.”  
“Alright, we can have those two, but not Los Del Rio’s Macarena - you do know that’s about a woman who cheats on her boyfriend with two of his friends, don’t you?”  
“Of course I know that, I WAS a demon. I’ll trade you the Macarena for one of your songs that mentions Heaven?”  
“Ohhhh fiiiine. Macarena for Heaven Must Be Missing an Angel, then.”  
“See, we can compromise! We’ve got this marriage thing in the bag.” Crowley grinned.  
“I thought we had it in the bag because we love each other?” Aziraphale teased.  
“That too Angel, that too.” Crowley kissed his fiancé, effectively ending the discussion.

They had no need to organise suits, as Adam’s post-not-pocalypse additions to their wardrobes included a set of tails each, which they’d concluded were perfect. They’d agreed they didn’t need anyone to give either of them away, as the only person (for lack of a better word) with the authority to do so was God Herself, and though they intended to invite her, it was as a guest, not their Creator. They had no intention of inviting any angels or demons, though they were drafting announcement letters to inform both parties of the event - to be sent AFTER it had occurred. As long-term resident green thumb Crowley was in charge of the flowers - he figured it was only fair, since Aziraphale was taking lead on the food. He’d been quietly whispering endearments and encouragements to all the blooming plants in Little Eden, promising prime spots to those plants which performed best. Naturally they were all eager to please and had outdone themselves for weeks, trying to earn a coveted spot which they were all but guaranteed regardless.

They’d decided without fuss that neither of them wanted groomsmen, bridesmaids, flower girls, page boys, or attendants of any other label. They had however discussed at length who they wanted to solemnise their vows, and after debating the pros and cons of the various candidates, had chosen Anathema. Certain that this was a request they should make in person, they’d made a day trip to Jasmine Cottage, and asked the young occultist if she would consent to being their officiant. Anathema had been pleasantly surprised at the request, and agreed to do so - though she pointed out that she wasn’t qualified to make it legally binding. Aziraphale had prepared for this eventuality, and assured her they intended to visit the registry office the following day to take care of the official paperwork - her role was to perform the handfasting ceremony they’d chosen to share with their friends.

Having shoulder-length hair to contend with, Crowley had contemplated the various styles in which he might wear it for their wedding - eventually deciding on a simple mostly-down braided style that was elegant without being over-the-top. On the bouquet vs boutonnière debate they were tempted to say “why not both?” but thought this might be excessive, so decided on boutonnières with three buds rather than the more traditional one. Jewellery was a far simpler decision - they loved their engagement rings so much they’d decided to buy the same style in yellow gold for their wedding, and the white and rose gold again for their eternity rings - in opposing colours to their engagement, so that at their one year anniversary they would each have all three colours, worn in reverse order. Aziraphale would of course wear his vintage pocket watch, cleaned specially so that it shone. Crowley’s sunglasses were another topic which remained under heated discussion for some time - he argued that he couldn’t get around with bright yellow eyes with the Them’s parents in attendance, and Aziraphale argued that wearing his sunglasses at night would draw more attention, not less. In the end that particular debate was decided by Anathema, who flat out refused to marry anyone wearing eyewear not mandated with a prescription from a qualified eyecare professional - and as Crowley had never visited an optometrist or ophthalmologist, nor had any intention of doing so - he lost the argument.

With invitations sent, RSVPs inbound, and the details of the wedding itself finally settled, they started discussing their honeymoon, and plans for moving to the South Downs thereafter. The honeymoon - it was swiftly concluded - would be on the continental mainland so that Crowley could drive the Bentley as fast as he liked on the Autobahn, and would NOT include any Sound of Music related tours. Beyond that they were content to see where the mood took them, with no fixed plans beyond "enjoy ourselves". Moving to the South Downs was a different matter. They'd intended to move closer to Tadfield, but residing in the heart of London for so long had thoroughly scrambled the geography of the rest of the country within their brains - without either of them realising it until they finally looked at a map. They'd hardly be closer at all - and could actually be considerably further away, depending on which part of the Downs they chose. It would avoid London traffic though, so that was something. With fond memories of the old Kingdom of Wessex, they decided to settle in Winchester. Boasting both a university and one of the largest cathedrals in Europe, it was busy enough to not be dull, but quiet enough (compared to London) that they could slow down - together. 

The day before the wedding they drove to Tadfield - they’d chosen the village as the location for their wedding so that the Them could stay at the reception for as long as possible - and with assistance from Adam’s parents Arthur and Deirdre (and a minor miracle or three) had gained permission from the Youngs’ neighbour Mr Tyler to use the section of his land nearest the apple trees for their wedding and reception. After setting up the gazebo, Crowley began sorting out his plants. Climbing vines and twinkle lights twined up the corner posts and along the edges of the gazebo roof. Red and white roses intermingled around the edges of the gazebo and either side of the gold aisle, with white roses lining the black aisle, and red roses lining the white aisle. Other plants were set around the designated area in pots of alternating black, white and gold, creating walls of shrubbery. Crowley talked kindly to each plant as he put them into position, asking them to please tolerate the change of scenery for a couple of days, and to do their best to impress Aziraphale. Having finally accepted this new side of their Master, and not wanting to disappoint the being he loved most, they took the challenge in their proverbial stride.

Despite neither of them being a bride, Aziraphale had insisted that they abide by the human superstition of spending the night before - and the morning of - their wedding apart. Aziraphale was staying with the Youngs, Crowley with Anathema and Newt at Jasmine Cottage. After dinner together at the cottage, Aziraphale thanked Anathema for taking care of his fiancé, kissed Crowley goodnight, and walked to the Young residence. Crowley immediately felt bereft, and it must have shown on his face or in his aura, as Anathema took his hand and said “You’ll see him tomorrow. He’ll be fine in the meantime. It’s alright.”  
Crowley smiled weakly at her, but his forehead still showed his distress.  
“You love him even more than he knows, don’t you?” she asked.  
“More than he could ever know. More than I ever thought I could love anyone,” Crowley answered.  
“He loves you just as much - I can see it in your auras. He may be a being of love, designed to love, but he loves you more than anything in the world - including the world. And this time tomorrow, you’ll be married.”  
“More or less,” Crowley added.  
“More or less, yes. I do wish the UK would allow regular citizens to officiate legally the way we can in other countries - you wouldn’t need to go to the registry office, and there’d be no ‘more or less’ about it.”  
“Can’t have everything I suppose.”  
“No, I suppose not. You have each other though. That has to count for something.”  
“That counts for everything. Thanks Anathema,” Crowley said.  
“You’re welcome,” she replied.

He continued chatting with the young couple until it was time for bed - they all needed sleep before the next day, and Crowley eventually drifted off, thinking of Aziraphale. The angel did NOT sleep, preferring to read through the night to calm his nerves. He was excited for the following day, but was starting to regret agreeing to an evening wedding - he wanted to marry Crowley over breakfast! For a being who’d lived through six millennia, any period of less than 24 hours should not feel like an eternity, but it did. Finally - FINALLY - it was their wedding day, and finally - FINALLY - it was time to get ready. Aziraphale dressed with care in his creamy new suit, different from his usual clothing and yet alike enough to be comfortable, and tucked the boutonnière - two white rosebuds and a red between them - into his lapel. At Jasmine Cottage Crowley was contrastingly attired in his new black suit, with a boutonnière of two red rosebuds and one white.

At last the moment had arrived! Crowley had arranged the plants to ensure he and Aziraphale wouldn’t see each other until they were walking up their respective aisles towards Anathema. He stood waiting at the end of his, hearing their guests quietly chatting amongst themselves. He suddenly wished he had someone to walk with him - his knees were shaking so much he wasn’t sure he’d be able to walk all the way to the gazebo without staggering. Aziraphale meanwhile was bouncing up and down on his toes, trying to dispel the nervous energy from his body, and failing utterly. 

After what felt like twenty years, Anathema stood in the centre of the gazebo, and the strains of Sharon Corr’s violin began to play. They each stepped from the surrounding plantlife, and onto their aisles. Crowley couldn’t help glancing over to see Aziraphale, and was stunned by his beauty. Aziraphale had chanced a glance in Crowley’s direction at the same time, and the smile that broke across his face outshone the setting sun by several orders of magnitude. They both walked sedately up their aisles, holding back from breaking into a run with a miracle for almost every stride. At the end of their respective aisles they walked up the three steps of the gazebo, and stood either side of Anathema, grinning broadly at one another.

“Beloved friends, we are gathered here this evening to witness the union of Aziraphale and Crowley. They’ve asked me to keep this short and sweet, but the love of my own life insisted I should say a little something about them before proceeding to the vows.  
Aziraphale and Crowley could have been a very Shakespearen tragedy, ending in ruin and destruction. Fortunately for all of us, but most especially for them, they endured the hardships life saw fit to throw at them - most often together - until at last life relented, and allowed them to be as they are now - content in one another’s love and companionship.  
So, I ask you - Aziraphale - do you take Crowley to be your husband, to have and to hold, in good times and bad, through all the trials the future may hold, for as long as you both shall live?”  
“I do,” Aziraphale said proudly, tears springing to his eyes.  
“And do you - Crowley - take Aziraphale to be your husband, to have and to hold, in good times and bad, through all the trials the future may hold, for as long as you both shall live?”  
“I do,” Crowley said, pushing past the planet-sized lump in his throat.  
“Rings have long been a symbol of marriage vows, and I invite you now to exchange them.”  
Aziraphale spoke first, tears gliding down his cheeks as he slid the ring onto Crowley’s finger. “Crowley, I give you this ring, as a symbol of my love, and the unending bond we share.”  
Crowley cleared his throat, then spoke clearly whilst the matching ring slid onto Aziraphale’s finger. “Aziraphale, I give you this ring, as a symbol of my love, and the unending bond we share.”  
They clasped hands, and using the silver scarf Crowley had provided, and the tartan tie Aziraphale had likewise given her, Anathema gently bound them together.  
“The law here prevents me from legalising this blessed union, but by the power vested in me by the pair of you, I now pronounce you almost-married. You may kiss each other.”  
Their guests laughed at the “almost-married”, then smiled indulgently as the newly-almost-weds kissed.

The reception was wonderful, with the food catered by professionals Aziraphale had vetted more thoroughly than the average government checks the credentials of its politicians. The cake was a masterpiece of pure white fondant with gold filigree leaves spiralling around it, and the guests mingled happily with each other. They ate, and drank, and danced, with the grooms never leaving each other’s side. When it was probably three hours past his bedtime, Adam picked up his water glass and tapped it gently with his dessert spoon. Everyone turned to look at him in surprise, but Adam being Adam, he went on regardless. 

“I’ve seen in a few movies that people do that when they want to make a speech. I’d like to thank my Godfathers for inviting my family and friends to their wedding, and for having it here in Tadfield so our parents would say yes.” The guests (especially the parents) laughed, and Adam continued. “This is the first wedding I’ve ever been to, so I don’t actually have anything to compare it to yet, but I think this might be the best wedding ever. I hope you’re both really happy, and you can get properly married tomorrow. Now can you please cut the cake so we can eat some before we have to go home to bed?”

The guests laughed again, and the grooms happily obliged the former antichrist. After cake the Them and their parents went home, leaving Aziraphale and Crowley, Anathema and Newt, Madame Tracy and Shadwell, and one young lady who looked familiar and yet not at all so, sitting around a table drinking very fine champagne together. After seeing Shadwell stifle several large yawns Madame Tracy bid them farewell, and steered the retired Witchfinder to their accommodation for the night. When Newt began to yawn similarly, Anathema wisely bid them a good evening also, and took him home to the cottage. The final guest did not look tired at all, and was smiling serenely at the couple.

“I haven’t had the opportunity to thank you until now for My invitation. I was very pleased to receive it. Though I must ask, why was Anathema chosen as your officiant, not Me?”  
Aziraphale and Crowley shared a glance, then Aziraphale answered. “We weren’t 100% sure You would come, if I’m being honest. We had to choose someone we knew would be here in a corporeal form, and Anathema is a lovely young lady.”  
“She is a lovely young lady, you’re right about that. But I was always going to be here for this, My loves. I would not have missed it for all of creation.”  
“We’re very glad You came,” Aziraphale said.  
“Are you, Crowley?” She asked.  
“Yes. Of course. You are our Creator,” Crowley answered.  
“You still don’t trust Me though, do you?”  
“I’d like to trust You. If that counts for anything.”  
“It does. Would it help you to know that it was never Me who cast you out of Heaven?”  
They both looked at Her, stunned. Aziraphale was the first to ask “If not You, then who?”  
“It was a civil war. Michael was demoted for her actions, but I could not reverse them without causing further harm. Your averting Armageddon was what allowed Me to finally do something about it, though it did not occur to Me that I should until you gave Me that very thorough scolding, Aziraphale. I must thank you for that as well. I had grown complacent. You awoke a fire in Me that I had nearly forgotten I had.”  
“You’re...welcome?” Aziraphale said hesitantly.

God smiled at them. “I should be off, and let you two lovebirds enjoy your wedding night. Don’t take too long before you get started on those other tasks I set you though. The humans are going to kill this poor planet if you put it off much longer.”  
“We intend to start as soon as we’ve moved house,” Aziraphale assured Her.  
“Good. Let Me know if you need help - though do not ask lightly.”  
She placed Her hand over where theirs rested lightly clasped on the table. Standing, She said, “I bless this union, and you both, and the work you will soon do for Me. May you have joy in each other and love in your hearts - though I can see that you already do.”  
Their eyes shone with unshed tears at this Most Holy of blessings. Smiling, She started to walk away, before half-turning to say, “Oh, and you don’t need to go to the registry office tomorrow. I’ve taken care of the paperwork for you. Consider it My wedding gift.”  
At this they both broke down, and clutched at each other, weeping openly.

When they had got themselves in the right frame of mind they cleared away the tables, chairs, and decorations. Crowley sent his plants back to Little Eden. The caterers had already taken their equipment with them, so that was one less thing to deal with. They returned the gazebo to the party hire company, and gave the flattened grass a boost. Anathema had taken care of the top layer of the cake for them, promising to keep it frozen until their first anniversary, as was human tradition. When all was set to rights, they walked hand-in-hand to the closest apple tree, and Crowley picked one. They sat under the tree, trading the apple back and forth, enjoying each other’s company in the tranquil quiet of the peaceful night. When the sun began to rise they joined it, and walked to the Bentley, still parked outside Jasmine Cottage. 

As Crowley drove them home to his flat (he wanted to check in on Little Eden before bed), they listened to the CD he’d burnt especially for this particular journey - all of the songs he’d rejected for the reception, whether they mentioned Heaven, or angels, or were deemed not quite right in some other way - even Umbrella by Rihanna, which they sang together.  
🎶 _When the sun shines, we shine together_  
_Told you I'll be here forever_  
_Said I'll always be your friend_  
_Took an oath that I'm a stick it out 'til the end_  
_Now that it's raining more than ever_  
_Know that we still have each other_  
_You can stand under my umbrella_  
_You can stand under my umbrella..._ 🎶 

When they arrived home they went straight to the garden, and checked on the plants. They both still thought of them as Crowley’s because he was the green thumb of the pair, but the plants were starting to think of themselves as belonging to Aziraphale too. When the two Caretakers had reassured themselves that all was well, they went to the bedroom, took off their shoes and suit coats, and collapsed in a heap on the bed. Adjusting themselves so that they lay face-to-face, one arm draped over each other and the other holding hands between themselves, they smiled contentedly at one another.  
“I love you, husband,” said Aziraphale.  
“As I love you, husband,” Crowley replied.  
They kissed until the sun was high in the sky - short soft kisses, and long deep kisses - gentle tender kisses and heated passionate kisses - kisses on cheeks and eyes and foreheads, jaws and necks and ears - kisses that took their breath away and kisses that could have given life. When they’d finally had enough of just kissing, they removed the remainder of their suits, and made love for the first time as husbands - worshipping each other as equals and partners, beloved and newly bound.

**Author's Note:**

> Crowley's opinion of David Tennant and Catherine Tate comes directly from my dear friend Cindy's personal experience of meeting them after seeing Much Ado About Nothing in 2011.  
If (like me) you don't have a TARDIS handy to see it at the Wyndham Theatre yourself, you can watch it by either subscribing to or renting from [Digital Theatre](https://www.digitaltheatre.com/consumer/production/much-ado-about-nothing). It's brilliant and I highly recommend it!
> 
> Crowley's [hairstyle](https://emmalovesweddings.com/10-latest-wedding-hairstyles-medium-length-hair/medium-length-bridal-hairstyles-half-up-half-down/), because I actually looked online to find one I thought would suit him.
> 
> The basic design for their [boutonnières](https://www.evanangelosflowers.com/store/p56/3_baby_Roses_with_2_Color_Ribbons_Boutonniere_%23133.html).
> 
> The [rings](https://www.fairfaxandroberts.com.au/product/hand-engraved-wheat-wreath-ring/) from part 4 - in case you need a refresher.
> 
> Their oopsie on geography is my fault - I'm Aussie, I've never been to the UK, and I didn't find out where the South Downs were in relation to Tadfield until I'd already written that they were moving there. I did choose [Winchester](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Winchester) with a fair amount of care though, so I hope that makes up for it. [Winchester Cathedral](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Winchester_Cathedral) is one of the largest in Europe, and boasts the greatest overall length of any Gothic cathedral...which I think Aziraphale especially would appreciate.
> 
> **Playlist**  
Wet Wet Wet - [Love is All Around](https://youtu.be/h3gEkwhdXUE)  
The Pointer Sisters - [Jump (for My Love)](https://youtu.be/uyTVyCp7xrw)  
Michael Bublé - [Forever Now](https://youtu.be/VRvYu5oOXF0)  
Savage Garden - [Truly, Madly, Deeply](https://youtu.be/WQnAxOQxQIU)  
Van Morrison - [Bright Side of the Road](https://youtu.be/rCDZzf4ragg)  
Frank Sinatra - [The Way You Look Tonight](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YFham2Xu6nA)  
Doris Day - [Dream a Little Dream of Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h7j8wa9sWOE)  
Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons - [Can’t Take My Eyes Off You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LcJm1pOswfM)  
Goo Goo Dolls - [Iris](https://youtu.be/NdYWuo9OFAw)  
Rod Stewart - [Have I Told You Lately](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vQUQcAzAi3k)  
Sister Act Cast - [I Will Follow Him](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VPpd-6X3tEo)  
The Bangles - [Eternal Flame](https://youtu.be/39L-0K4WRbU)  
Natalie Cole - [This Will Be (an Everlasting Love)](https://youtu.be/rbaoKL1Ei0c)  
Dave Dobbyn - [Slice of Heaven](https://youtu.be/OWNLVogchpU)  
Bruno Mars - [Locked Out of Heaven](https://youtu.be/e-fA-gBCkj0)  
Belinda Carlisle - [Heaven is a Place on Earth](https://youtu.be/P-WP6POdTgY)  
Tavares - [Heaven Must Be Missing an Angel](https://youtu.be/5UCbUXo9ZVE)  
Tina Turner - [Nutbush City Limits](https://youtu.be/ALAWxatDoD0)  
The Village People - [YMCA](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CS9OO0S5w2k)  
Los Del Rio - [Macarena](https://youtu.be/MXVx6yJQbn8)  
Rihanna - [Umbrella](https://youtu.be/CvBfHwUxHIk)
> 
> If you're unfamiliar with the Nutbush dance, [Horsham Primary School](https://youtu.be/q0CA605NS1E) here in Australia set the Guinness World Record for most people doing it simultaneously in 2015 - skip to 1:10 for the dance. In the early 1990's I was taught to turn to the right not the left, but we regularly did Nutbush marathons at school - using a 90min cassette tape with nothing but Nutbush on it so we never had to rewind (the teachers didn't trust 10- 11- and 12-year-olds with the CD player). My personal record was 5 repeats of the song - the school record was 7. I think Crowley (with his long lanky snaky gait) would struggle to complete one.


End file.
